


Changing Fate Behind Closed Doors

by Ghost_Writing



Series: Yuri on Ice Compilation [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha Phichit Chulanont, Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Christophe Giacometti, Omega Otabek Altin, Omega Verse, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Writing/pseuds/Ghost_Writing
Summary: The dead give away, if those hadn’t been enough, to who this man was, had to be the Siberian cat traits, a large fluffy tail and two white ears. Cat’s were rare, especially in the skating world since they were stereotyped to have less energy than dog traited secondaries. He didn’t even need an introduction for Otabek to know this was-“Presenting Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Tiger,” the Adoption Consultant finished his thought, cementing the fear bubbling in the pit of his stomach.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Series: Yuri on Ice Compilation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462012
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've worked on many different Omegaverse projects, so far this is one of my favourite ideas. I just had to try out reversing the dynamics to see how the story changes.
> 
> Usual disclaimer, Otabek and Yuri are older (duh). This is before Yuri on Ice, but not at the same time. There are a few events that are similar, Victor was Yuuri's private coach (everyone thought he was on vacation), and Yuri went with him to confirm this.

Otabek fidgeted with his collar as he stood outside the display room. The outfit they’d dressed him in tight black leggings, a white tank top, and a collar with a large number four in metal text, stuck out sharply against his husky traits. His tail and ears fluffy and still as he kept his emotions reserved. 

He wasn’t the fourth Omega in the facility, he was the fourth in this hour's lineup. It made him sick how Alpha’s got to lounge around, touch them, and pick out whoever they wanted. They were people, not toys. 

Yet he couldn’t change fate. Alpha’s were top dogs, and Omega’s were just there to help create more children and be used during their heats. He’d never voice these complaints, but they hung in the back of his mind like dangerous whispers. 

“Come on! We don’t have all day! Get a move on!” a voice ordered, snapping him from his thoughts. The sharp tone of a Beta, unaffected by Alpha or Omega pheromones ordering him to walk forwards with the others. The Beta brandished a long stick with a forked end that sparked when he pushed a button. A sick smirk on his lips as he played with the button. 

Otabek didn’t move, instead choosing to glare at the Beta. It’s not like he can damage him before a showing… right? 

He was wrong when he felt a jab on his ass and a shock of electricity run through his body. His spine shivered as he went rigid. He was given no warning as he was shoved forwards by the boot of the Beta, forcing him to walk or be jabbed again.

With a frustrated huff, Otabek folded his hands over his chest and walked into the room after the other Alpha’s already lining up. He would’ve put his hands in his pockets but he had none, the tight leggings having pretty display pockets instead of practical ones. Putting his cock on display rather than comfort.

He was standing there grumbling to himself quietly as they announced the first Alpha. A short man with fluffy black hair, large glasses, a sweater vest over top of a button-up, and a scent of rice and sake bustled in. Large Shiba Inu ears and a fluffy tail proudly displayed as he pushed his glasses up as he scanned over each Omega in the line up, taking his time to examine each one. 

“Presenting Alpha Katsuki Yuuri,” the Adoption Consultant called out as the Alpha began to walk down the line slowly.

The Alpha was two Omega’s down, getting closer to Otabek when another Alpha rushed into the room. He was dressed in a simple running jacket, white t-shirt, and black snapback. Thai bangkaew ears and tail beating quickly to announce his excitement. The scent of strawberries and cinnamon roaming the room after his arrival. 

“Joining Mr. Katsuki is Alpha Phichit Chulanont,” the Adoption Consultant repeated, never failing at an introduction.

Otabek glared forwards as he remembered what brought him to this particular facility. He’d presented a few months ago during a skating performance. He’d been on the ice in America when he’d presented during the middle of the performance, making it awkward for himself as his dick bulged against his costume. For years his trainer had worked with him to hide and suppress his secondary gender, only for them to miss it and have it come in a full ocean in the least opportune moment. 

He’d stumbled off the ice afterwards only to be quickly escorted away by six guards wearing masks. They’d dragged him here, a display center for celebrities to find the perfect toys. Being a skater only added to his ever-growing display rank until he’d been placed in the top performance rank. He didn’t recognize these two Alphas, but a knot formed in his stomach at the thought of who he could recognize. 

For the first time since being shoved into a line-up, he took the daring move to look at the other Omega’s shoved in the line with him. He caught a blond man with a brown undercut, Swedish Vallhund traits, and looking perfectly comfortable in his tight clothes. Wasn’t he already mated or did he have the same arrangement with his trainer? 

He paused for a moment before continuing to the next man. When his eyes landed on a Silver-haired Russian skater with large poodle traits that had been performing for years under the guise that he was a Beta, he froze. What was his luck to be shoved in the same line as these two? To be in the same line meant he had the same price tag and that thought alone tripled the knot in his stomach.

He watched with held breath as the two Alpha’s looked him over and skipped him, stopping at the two Omega’s he’d noticed previously. They looked them over, the Silver-haired man freezing at their gazes and the blonde one relishing in them. With a few words to the Beta’s working on hand, particularly the Adoption Consultant, a tall woman with long red hair and glasses that were there for decoration, the two Omega’s were dragged off. Leaving Otabek frozen with fear twisting in his gut.

Somehow, he managed to block out the next few bargains until there were only five Omega’s left in the lineup. He was nearer to the end so the worry had started to subside. Perhaps Alpha’s wouldn’t even reach him before deciding on their purchase. Hopefully. 

His eyes turned like always to the next Alpha to walk into the room, he treated them with lazy interest mostly due to his unwillingness to be here. But the next Alpha that walked into the room caused him to snap his attention forwards and straighten his back in hopes of not being recognized. 

He stood shorter than Otabek did, but made up for it with the fire that burned his angry eyes. The scent of piroshkis and orange candy rolled off of him. A tiger print varsity jacket hung on his slim shoulders, with matching sunglasses on his face that obscured his eyes from giving away where he was looking. He wore a tight pair of leather pants with metal chains laced up the sides of open legs, a white t-shirt tucked into them with the picture of a Russian flag printed across the front. Blond hair held back in a half-bun. The dead give away, if those hadn’t been enough, to who this man was, had to be the Siberian cat traits, a large fluffy tail and two white ears. Cat’s were rare, especially in the skating world since they were stereotyped to have less energy than dog traited secondaries. He didn’t even need an introduction for Otabek to know this was-

“Presenting Alpha Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Tiger,” the Adoption Consultant finished his thought, cementing the fear bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn’t fear of the man’s status or the fact of how much power he held in the skating world currently. It was the deep-seated fear of knowing this man previously due to a skating course they once shared. It was the deep-seated fear that this tiny Russian prince could easily break him if he even asked him a simple question. 

Otabek thought he was out of the woods when he saw the blond man size-up a small brunette Omega that should’ve presented as an Omega. He breathed a sigh of relief as the blond flagged down the Consultant. He watched as he motioned for her to lean in, whispering something in her ear. 

She nods her head, moving to walk with him over to where Otabek was standing. Otabek felt his heart start pounding in his chest, hammering against his ribs as the blond lazily followed after her, stopping in front of him with his arms folded across his chest.

“Now you see sir, this one is exactly what you have just described to me. He has all the qualities of an Omega-” she yanked Otabek’s arm delicately so he stretched it out- “he obeys orders-” she takes a familiar-looking taser out, resting the uncharged forked end on Otabek’s bulge- “Fertile. And-” she clicks the button on the tool. Otabek bites his lip, staying ridged as he fights the urge to scream and curl up- “He can take anything you wish to throw at him with a stoic face. The perfect toy for a Russia Tiger.”

He watches Yuri nod, panic settling into his chest. He wasn’t seriously considering him. Was he? He straightens up despite the fork pressed to his junk as the skinny blond circles around him, eyeing him up and down. He doesn’t touch him once, but Otabek can feel his eyes running over him. It feels worse than if he was touching him. It feels like he’s treating him as a designer outfit behind glass. He’s not designer by any means, and he sure as hell doesn’t need to be behind glass.

Before he can catch himself, a snarl escapes his lips. He quickly stops it the moment he realizes, but the damage is already done. The Consultant is already sparking electricity through his body. A small whimper emits from his throat as he collapses on the ground. 

“Just remember Mr.Plisetsky, there’s always a breaking point. I’m not sure this one is right for you, shall we move on-” the Consultant begins to say before Yuri cuts him off.

“No, no. I’ve seen enough. I’ll take him,” Yuri says with crossed arms and a sneer on his face.

Otabek can hear the Consultant hesitate before responding;  
“Very well sir. I’ll have him ready for transport.” 

She claps her hands and two large Beta’s come over to Otabek. They pick him up with their hands under his armpits. If he wasn’t so beaten down by the electricity, he would’ve fought back. But the physical defeat, combined with the psychological defeat is enough to break him down.

He can hear the click of the Consultant’s heels on the floor behind him, the heavy falls of Yuri’s boots next to her. He puts as much weight into going limp as he can, but the Beta’s just dragged him on.

“We’ll have him examined and prepped for transport. Where is it you’ll be travelling to?” the Consultant asks in her chirpy voice. Yuri must be important if she’s doing the paperwork. She didn’t even go with Yuuri when Victor was being bought. Is there more to this Russian than Otabek remembers?

“Back to Russia. Prep him for the flight, but we have accommodations on the jet so don’t put him out for too long,” the Russia snips and Otabek feels dread fill his stomach. He doesn’t want to know what these accommodations are.

“Very well. Should we do the usual routine or are there any special requests?” she continues as they walk down the sterile hallway.

“Do not shave or chip him, and remove the collar. Just a physical and any shots needed for vaccines,” Yuri states as if he’d rehearsed what he’d request. Otabek feels the dread double, what the hell did he have prepared that he was so confident that he wouldn’t need to be drugged, chipped, or collared?

This time the Consultant definitely hesitates, she loses the beat in her step for a brief moment as they turn a corner, stopping in front of a large white door.

“If you insist sir. He’ll be prepped and readied to your request,” she says as the Betas’ push open the door. The Consultant and Yuri continue to walk, falling into a quiet silence.

The inside of the room is strictly medical. White walls, a stool for a doctor, a sink and counter with medical tools, and a large black medical chair with straps for arms and legs. He’s lugged over to the bed and the last bit of fight springs through his body. He scrambles against the two Beta’s to be let go, managing to break free and make it to the door just as it opens once more.

Standing in the doorway, in his way, is a man with a ridiculous haircut, a Russian cut face and an over amount of makeup. Trailing behind him is a woman, shorter but still just as powerful, with red hair in the shape of a bob. Both have a sterile scent of a Beta clinging to them, dressed in medical clothing.

“We’ll take it from here, thank you,” the man says to the Beta’s. They nod their heads, leaving the room. Once they’re gone the red-head locks the door behind them and the two present large ears and tails. The red-head with Border Collie traits, and the raven-haired man with Mainecoon traits.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” she chirps, breathing a sigh of relief as the pair turns to Otabek. He’s now curled in the corner, his heart pounding in fear. “Oh sorry hun, we didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Mila, this is Georgi. Yuri hired us.”

This does very little to settle Otabek’s nerves. He backs against the wall, his chest heaving up and down. Of course, Yuri, the Russian Prince, had his own private doctors. Of course, he’d only need two to handle any Omega he chose. Like a cornered dog, Otabek snarls at them. It’s a vain attempt against two large forces, but he tries it anyway.

The two exchange looks with creased eyebrows and thin lips. Unreadable as they move towards Otabek. He tries to back up, but the wall is cold against his back, his tail pressed between his legs. 

“Relax, we’re not going to hurt you. Just sit on the seat please,” Georgi asks, calmly gesturing to the medical chair. 

Seeing no other out, Otabek lips towards it. His body drained from adrenaline shoots pain from where the prong points had rested not even an hour ago. Within a moment of sitting down, Mila is stripping him down gently, coaxing him to help her. He does, watching the two of them with an apprehensive look on his face and hesitance to trust why they were being so gentle towards him. 

Once out of his clothes, Mila examines him while Georgi takes notes. They’re speaking too fast for Otabek to catch more than a few words, they don’t seem to be speaking any language he knows. She gestures to the two points he’d been stuck with a prong taser and the man nods. 

He hands her a jar of cream and gloves, as well as bandages. She gently puts them on, snapping them to her wrists and giggling from the sound. With careful gentleness, she applies the gel to the affected areas. It burns at first and Otabek tenses before the area’s go completely numb.

“There, we know they’re brutes here. We’re almost done, don’t worry. Next is that collar,” she says, bandaging up the cream while Georgi sets down the clipboard. 

Otabek watches with wide eyes as the man quickly removes the collar with the number four around his neck. It’s set onto the counter, as the man reaches for a second roll of bandages. He gives Otabek a sympathetic look when he sees his neck, wrapping gauze over the burn marks and scars from all the different needles that had been jabbed and ripped out of him. It’s cold with some sort of liquid that chills the skin of his neck. 

He whimpers as he’s applied, his body cold and his ears pressed flat. Mila takes a moment to help him redress after the bandages are on. Georgi pets his hair before getting a cup with a tiny pill.

“Take this. It’ll slow your heart down to show up on their censors that you’re out cold,” he instructs, holding the cup out to Otabek.

He gives him a look of confusion, taking the cup and eyeing the contents.  
“You’re not going to drug me?”

Both of them shake their heads, disposing of the medical waste. He watches as they take two sets of sheets off the clipboard. One is replaced under the clip again, the other is stuffed into a small purse that Mila carries. 

“Yuri will explain everything when we’re on the plane. Hurry up, others are waiting,” Georgi says, pointing to the cup.

All Otabek can think to himself as he tips the cup back is that it’s better than a shot. He’s right. It is. He feels sluggish, but not weak or tired. Like he can still fight without giving it away. 

He allows them to take the cup, watching as they put it into their pocket instead of the trash. One person goes on either side of him, helping him off the chair.

“I feel fine, I can stand,” he protests.

“We need to make it look as if you’re asleep. Close your eyes and drag your feet,” Mila instructs, tapping his legs.

He shoots her a wary look but only gets a nod of the head. He does as he’s told and they exit the examination room. There’s no way for him to tell where he is or where they’re going as he keeps his eyes closed and his feet dragged. Neither of the strangers has a problem with dragging him. 

They’re stopped once, and Otabek can hear people talk around him, with his two handlers.

“He’s prepped and knocked out according to client instructions?” a Beta asks.

“Yup. All examined and out cold. We’re delivering him to the client now,” Mila confirms.

“We’ll see about that,” the Beta grunts, and Otabek can feel a hand on his wrist, and the beep of a machine. “Yup out cold. Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Georgi says with a gruff voice, and the trio begins to walk once more.

The wind that hits his face is unexpected and chillingly cold. Otabek shivers from how little clothing he has on. Mila and Georgi keep walking but he catches the whisper of something in Russia.

“ _Don’t worry. We have a coat on the jet_ ,” Mila says as they walk across the tarmac.


	2. Chapter 2

Otabek had been shuffled up the jet’s stairs, only limply helping when absolutely necessary. He didn’t want to get caught, whatever these crazy people’s plans were. They might punish him, the facility or them. He wasn’t sure what was worse.

Once he was on the jet, he was passed over to someone with a familiar scent. It took him a moment to realize who this was. Vodka and roses filled his nose before he could look up to see who it was. This was Victor, the man he’d seen before… how? Why was he here? Did that mean that Yuuri was also here?

However, it was only confirmation that he heard Yuuri’s voice next rather than Victor’s.  
“I knew I saw him there. We have everyone, you want to let Georgi and Mila get into the jet?”

Otabek rubbed his eyes to look at whoever was speaking around him. He felt Victor rub his shoulder and hold him steady.  
“I can stand,” he grunted, and Victor let him go quickly.

“Of course,” he whispered back. Otabek was glad he let him go so quickly, he didn’t like to be touched all that much and he’d reached his limit of tolerance from strangers for the day.

“Alright, will do. You sure J.J. has the property ready? Guys’ fucking annoying, are we even sure that he was being sincere?” the sharp, harsh tone of Yuri’s voice cuts in.

Otabek gulps as he registers Yuri, Yuuri, and Phichit standing further up the jet, talking with each other in a tiny kitchen. There are large enclosed beds around the jet, as well as lounging chairs for those who wish to sit. Music was playing from stereo’s, not all that loud or demanding, just punk mixed with a few pop songs. Otabek looked longingly at the beds that were in the jet. It had been so long since he’d had a proper bed to sleep in. Before he had been abducted by the facility.

“We’ve been over this Yuri, we can trust him. He hasn’t done anything yet to make us think we shouldn’t, plush you’ve seen how he is with his mate, the two of them treat each other as equals. As they should,” Phichit says, taking a sip of his drink.

Equals? J.J.? Property? This was all too much, way too much for Otabek to handle without context or sleep. He jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Take that one, it’s yours,” Victor whispers to him, pointing to the bed across from the one that Christophe was currently curled up in.

The bed had an unopened box on top of it, as well as two large duffle bags. His eyes darted over to Yuri. The man wasn’t paying attention to him, so he darted to the items and opened the box. Victor followed after him, providing him with some cover. At least no one stopped him yet.

“He’s still an asshole. He could turn us in before we even get to land there,” Yuri protests with a huff in his voice.

The box opens up to show a mass amount of blankets with a grumpy looking teddy bear on top. He blinks at it, carefully opening up the duffle bags as well. One is filled with sweatpants, t-shirts, pyjamas, and new socks and underwear. The other has his clothes and belongings from before he was ripped off the ice.

There’s a click of heels on the stairs before the doors quickly lock shut.  
“Alright, we have at most an hour before they find out. Let’s get this baby running,” Georgi declares, heading to the cockpit of the jet.

The hushed air falls over the jet as Otabek still has his hands in the duffle bag, digging for one very particular object. At the last performance that Otabek and Yuri had attended together, fans had tossed down tigers and bears onto the rink for each of them. Apparently, Yuri’s Angels had decided that they were the cutest pair. Otabek had kept a chibi bear wearing a tiger outfit and holding a fish. His fingers brushed against the soft material with a sigh.

Many items were tossed out onto the bed before he noticed it had fallen silent. Victor was still at his side, standing in between him and the Alpha’s, Chris was awake now, his gaze darting to each group. Yuri was intensely staring at Otabek, causing his chest to pound in fear. He was still sluggish, the Alpha could do whatever he wanted.

So he pulled the golden rule. He kicked off the ratty shoes he’d been given and climbed into the bed, dumping the contents of the box and starting to make a large nest. There was one rule no Alpha would break in front of a crowd, and that was getting into an Omega’s nest without permission. Both of them knew it, and Otabek stared back with the bubbling fear behind his stoic front.

There was a murmur of Yuuri in Yuri’s ear, but Yuri just shook his head with a frown and reached into the fridge for another drink. Yuuri looked to Phichit but he just shrugged, motioning to Chris and Victor. With a heavy sigh, Yuuri nodded his head.

Otabek took the opportunity of the attention being off him to hide in the corner and change his outfit. The scratchy material of the boxers he’d been given was ripped to shreds as he just yanked them off and replaced them with the soft silk ones in the other duffle bag. He had to bite his lip to keep from groaning at how wonderful they felt to put on. He replaced the others with soft grey sweatpants and a soft black t-shirt. How he managed to make them all soft was beyond him but he wasn’t going to complain.

While he was busy, he missed Mila walking over to Yuri and whispering something in his ear. All Otabek caught was the gesture she made of putting her hand around her neck with a worried look. Otabek swallowed and looked down as Yuri nodded his head slowly and pulled out what looked to be a long bean bag. He popped it into the microwave as everyone’s ears popped from the altitude.

With Victor as his guard in the next bed over, Otabek felt a little safe that he wouldn’t be hurt. However, he was still cautious as Yuri crossed towards him, carrying two open bottles and the bean bag fresh from the microwave. Yuri stood at the foot of the bed, offering one of the bottles full of orange liquid to him and the bean bag. Otabek just stared at them.

“Take them. The drink tastes good and the heating pad will help your neck. It’s gotta be sore,” he whispers softly, still offering them. This was a drastic difference from the cold Yuri Otabek had seen earlier.

He looked to Victor who nodded his head with a smile, motioning to the bean bag.  
“I know Yura, he won’t hurt you. It does taste good,” he reassures him with a smile as Yuuri comes over to stand next to Victor’s nest.

With a hesitant attempt, he takes the bean bag and drink from Yuri. Carefully with the drink between his legs, he wraps the beanbag around his neck. A satisfied sigh escapes his lips as his eyes close briefly from the warmth against his neck, overriding the dull ache. He opens them again to take the drink from his knees and take a sip. It tastes just as his mind keeps telling him Yuri does. Yet still, he can’t be an easy lay for someone he knows is only seeking sexual companionship. All Alpha’s are, so why bother getting attached when that’s all they see you as?

Yuri pauses for a moment, seeing him shrink back and away. With a stiff huff, he walks away to one of the lounge seats. Otabek misses the pitying look that Victor shoots Yuri as he sits down. The blond just sneers and pulls out his music.

Otabek doesn’t miss how Victor willingly allows for Yuuri to enter his nest, or how the two of them wrap up together happily with light kisses and soft smiles. He’d heard that Victor had spent a season vacationing in Japan and that Yuuri had hired a private tutor. He’d never put too much thought into it until now, it made sense that he’d been tutoring Yuuri. Come to think of it, wasn’t Yuri with him as well?

Everything just made all that more sense from the previous season. How Yuuri had been so good, and that Victor was on the sidelines cheering for him and Yuri. Otabek hadn’t caught much of anything after that, he’d been ripped off the ice right after his performance. Never even earning his medal, if he’d even had won anything. His arrest had been all over the news, yet neither Victor nor Christophe had been. Something wasn’t adding up.

“You two know each other, yet he just bought you,” Otabek pointed out, the word bought feeling like dirt on his tongue as he stared at the pair with confusion.

Both of them exchange looks of confusion before looking over to Mila who was currently consuming a sandwich.

“Mila you were supposed to tell him!” Victor exclaims as Yuuri plants his face in his hand.

Mila freezes before realization flashes over her eyes and clams her hand around her mouth to prevent spitting out her food as she falls into laughter.  
“I totally thought that Yuri was going to tell him later!”

A collective groan sounds throughout the plane, even from Chris and Phichit who were chatting on the chairs across from Yuri. During all of this, Yuri was still absorbed in his music.

“Well don’t change the plan on us! It was bad enough we had to worm our way into getting Victor and Chris legally without getting caught. Yuri had to just go back for Otabek,” Mila argues, loudly to catch everyone’s attention.

Otabek sits there in confusion, slowly piecing together what was going on.  
“Okay… so this was planned. But I wasn’t?” he asks, trying to get clarification.

“Yeah, we had Victor and Chris go through the system so that we could legally protect their image. You were an outlier, something we didn’t plan for,” Yuuri explains, lazily leaning against the side of the bed.

“So why did you come back for me?” Otabek presses, only getting more confused by all of this.

They just shrug, looking over at the Russian sleeping in the corner hugging something in his arms that’s obscured by the blanket over his body.

“That’s just the thing, no one knows. Yuri just heard us mention your name and darted towards the building. Mila and Georgie had to go after him,” Victor fills him in, Mila nodding in confirmation. “He didn’t tell us why.”

Otabek sighs and leans back on in his nest, the tiger plush tucked under his arm. He looks over to where Yuri was sleeping, confusion and a deep-set longing in his heart. He wanted him, he never tried to hide it, but he never had the chance to tell him. He was arrested before he could even speak a single word to him.

For the rest of the plane ride, Otabek stared at the ceiling, drifting in and out of consciousness as his worried mind tossed and turned. Yuri was right there, within arms reach, he’d gone back to get him without a single word, and yet… he was too much of a coward to walk over and kiss him. His heart clung to his ribs as tightly as he clung to the bears in his arms. At some point, he’d dragged the large grumpy bear out of the box and cuddled that too, his scent wrapping over the blankets and stuffed toys.

During the night, Victor had pulled a curtain closed around his bed to give himself some privacy with his Yuuri. All Otabek wanted to do was grab Yuri. It drove him mad, hearing the soft snores of everyone around him and the muffled music of how loud Yuri’s headphones were.

Swallowing his pride, Otabek pulled the curtain back just enough to take the now scented bear out. He stood outside the bed, looking over to where Yuri was sleeping. He was unsure if the young Alpha was awake, so instead, he went over and grabbed a snack from the fridge first. There was no response to grab him anything, no remark about still being up, so he grabbed an orange soda (having finished the first one).

Otabek set the soda down on the table next to his bed, opened and ready to drink. Then he carefully tiptoed over to where Yuri was. The sounds of sleepy breaths, the rise and fall of his chest, and the peaceful look on his face told Otabek he was sound asleep.

He peered over him, noticing the chibi tiger plush in his arms. It was new, and Otabek swore that it was the same one he’d seen Yuri cuddling after his performance before Otabek’s arrest. It was held in place by one hand, the other tucked behind his head. Slowly and carefully, Otabek moved his arm and stole the tiger there. Then he grabbed the bear he’d set down, and puts it where the tiger was. They were the same size so it was easy to replace them.

Holding his breath, he waited for a moment. When Yuri didn’t wake up, simply stirring and wrapping himself around the bear with a mumble, Otabek’s heart pounded. He quickly darted back to his bed, leaving the curtain open just a crack to watch Yuri. Taking his time, he finished his soda, leaving the two bottles next to each other as he settled down in the nest.

The stuffed tiger was so soft. It smelt piroshkis and orange candy. The scent filled Otabek’s nose as he wrapped around it tightly. He pulled as many blankets as he could around him and drifted off to sleep almost instantly with the stuffed tiger in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Yurio's Pants  
> https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kwH-bIlo67E/WG9qO4Op6KI/AAAAAAAAAG4/RDVYdGE8Ymk41_ojsTbZTNRn4CFaZpolACLcB/s1600/pants_-_lace-up.jpg
> 
> Otabek's Plush  
> https://www.amazon.ca/Rilakkuma-San-X-Tiger-Eating-Plush/dp/B01BJMJ4T0/ref=asc_df_B01BJMJ4T0/?tag=googleshopc0c-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=335511427410&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=8160034879656905025&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9061281&hvtargid=pla-571473591743&psc=1


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